


Cool Cat

by CrazyEyebrows



Series: Queen [1]
Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: 60's, Alternate Universe - College/University, Arthur Henry, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexuality, College, Female Homosexuality, Gay, Ibex - Freeform, Internalized Homophobia, Kensington Market, Lilian Deacon - Freeform, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Slice of Life, Smile, Smile Era, University, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2019-10-17 09:41:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 18,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17557967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrazyEyebrows/pseuds/CrazyEyebrows
Summary: Roger Taylor finds himself questioning everything he knew about his sexuality, his friends, and life in general when he makes a sly new friend, Freddie Mercury, who truly rocks his world in every way he could imagine. Him and his three friends, Freddie included, try to live their life as well as they can as an up and coming rock group in the 60's and early 70's. Thankfully, they have each other, and that's more than enough.A chapter fic based on early Queen and it's beautiful members. Eventually Mary, Dominique, Anita and Chrissie will make their own appearances, though not in a historically correct manner.Please note that I'm not speaking for these men, nor saying how they felt. Historical Fiction at it's finest.((its not a lot like its insp. but i figured I should still put it there bc 1 its a great fic set and 2 it did play a big part in me wanting to make this in the first place))





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [You and I](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16980252) by [emma_and_orlando](https://archiveofourown.org/users/emma_and_orlando/pseuds/emma_and_orlando). 



 The soft sound of students passing in the halls, the pattering of rain on the window, Brian’s soft voice, it all overcame Roger. This was the perfect place to study, and he was astounded that Brian had never brought the cozy, almost closet like room to his attention before. He was nearly ready to fall asleep, hand wavering as he wrote notes. The blonde glanced up at his friend briefly, just barely taking in how interested Brian sounded.

 “Maybe you should take on Biology.” Roger said when Brian stopped reading to drink some water. He answered when he put the cup down again.

 “Do you think so? No, I’d never. Not my thing, really.” Brian flipped to the table of contents in his book.

 “No? You seem interested enough. More than I bloody well am, I’ll give you that.” Brian chuckled softly, tapping his pen against the table.

 “Yes, well… I’m not quite as interested in the book as I am with you…” Brian trailed off, and Roger looked up at him, only to catch him with his bottom lip sucked between his teeth. Roger starred as Brian let it go, now ever so slightly red and plumped with wet saliva covering it. Roger couldn’t help himself.

 “You’re trying to kill me, that’s it, right? You basically just had sex with my eyes ‘nd we haven’t even been studying together for a week.” This made Brian bark out a loud, cute laugh that made Roger’s own lips start to curl upwards.

 “You really are something, Taylor. I suppose I… could do much more…” Brian started unbuttoning his shirt, and Roger’s face went red.

_A_ nd then he woke up.

 His head gave obnoxiously painful throbs, the _thu-thud thu-thud thu-thud_ loud in his eardrums. He whined softly, hand coming up to touch his fragile skull. Roger took a moment, and slowly sat up to gather his surroundings. He didn’t recognize the living room, finding himself on a couch. Then, he remembered the party. The long, terribly boring frat party he’d gone to the night before.

 With the smallest of smirks, he wondered what bird he happened to pick up that night… that also seemed to be in the bathroom, if the closed door and running water was any indication. Roger stood, looking around and gathering anything he recognized to be his. As he was pulling on the clothes, the female he had sex with the night before emerged from the bathroom.

 Except she was a he. And he looked nearly just as hungover, long black locks knotted and thrown up in every which way. His tan skin was barely covered by an unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt and some grey shorts. Roger’s mouth dried up.

 “Ah, good morning…” Roger finally spoke, finishing getting into his clothes. The bloke came over to him, holding out his hand.

 “Freddie. Good morning. You’re Roger Taylor, hm?” It was a sad attempt to sound professional, voice cracking and seeming incapable of looking Roger in the eye. The first thing Roger noticed about the man were his large teeth, absolutely distracting. Roger didn't mind them much- absently thinking they were almost cute, in a way.

 “Yeah… how did you-”

 “You’re the drummer.”

 Roger internally groaned, really wishing to not be having this conversation at.. Roger glanced at the clock, 7:32 in the morning.

 “I am _a_ drummer. What’sit to you?” Roger tried to sound as forgiving and polite as he could. Freddie didn’t catch the slight snarkiness.

 Freddie sauntered closer, hand dropping now that Roger hadn’t taken it. He wrapped Roger in a tight, relentless hug, and whispered in his ear.

 “Call me, or find me at Kensington. I’d be thrilled,” Freddie’s tongue rolled the word beautifully, and it made Roger shiver. “to talk music with you, Darling. Sometime tonight, think it rude to keep a lady waiting.” The words were nearly purred, and he slipped a small piece of paper into Roger’s hand before falling aside and strutting off.

 Roger didn’t know what to make of the interaction, thinking if he knew any better, he might’ve just been going mad.

 Not that it was a big deal, he wouldn’t be calling Freddie anyway, because he was perfectly and undoubtedly straight. Just a mix up, things happen. That wouldn’t change his sexuality overnight- at all.

At all.


	2. One

 Roger sighed, angry at himself. He was nearly ripping out his hair, scratching at his head diligently while waiting for the class to end. He had made it one week. 7 days of keeping quiet about meeting Freddie, 168 hours of silently milling over his decision to stay as far as from Kensington Market as he could. 10,080 minutes of his curiosity killing him, 604,800 seconds of the budding of questioning his sexuality. Roger’s heart spiked as he heard the loud bell sound ringing. In less than seconds, he heard his professor yelling at him not to run, but he didn’t care. Roger has waited a perfectly fine about of time- he wasn’t going to wait a second longer.

 Although his heart felt ready to jump into his throat, and his lungs burned, Roger didn’t stop running. He ran from his class, out of the building, down the street and nearly half a mile in full just to get to Kensington market. He had even passed Brian, who was terribly confused. It took half a second of consideration, and then, Roger noticed Brian was running after him. He stopped at the store front suddenly- so suddenly that Brian collided directly into him and they both fell painfully embarrassingly to the floor. 

 “Oi! Gedda fuck off me!” Roger’s girlish squawks of protest were loud and obnoxious, enough so that Brian peeled off of him quickly.

 “Sorry-sorry sorry. Sorry. I’m sorry.” Brian profusely apologized, helping the blonde off of the sidewalk. Roger huffed, and dusted himself off before crossing his arms.

 “You were following me!” Roger yelled, hands moving to his hips. Brian adjusted his backpack.

 “Well, yeah, you were running. Didn’t even give me a second glance. We’re supposed to be practicing, you know?” Brian stared at the street rather than his friend, actually quite empty, especially for the time of day. Brian jumped when he felt a hand graze his shoulder.

 “ _ Ah,  _ so you found me, then?” Freddie’s voice was significantly sultry, and Roger found this to be quite the problem. He watched, as his usually so composed friend froze up, at the will of the much shorter man already.  “And you brought me a toy? How delightful.” While Brian was blushing, Roger was having none of it. He already saw through Freddie’s façade.

 “No, I didn’t. I brought my guitarist.” Freddie’s entire attitude immediately changed, so quickly Roger could've sworn he'd flipped a switch. 

 “Oh, why hello! I’m Freddie, Lovie.” He was exuberant, and took Brian’s hand to shake it. “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you, Brian. Yes? I’ve been following your band for a while.” Brian recomposed himself and shook Freddie’s hand.

 “Oh! H-uh-Hey, Freddie. Nice to meet you. Are you a friend of Roger’s?” Roger glared at Freddie, but it did nothing to aid his embarrassing response.

 “Is that what we’re calling it these days? I suppose I am. We met Saturday, at a party.” Brian seemed confused at the answer, and Roger was quick to change the subject.

 "A-Anyway, you said you wanted to talk music? Do you play?” Roger spoke quickly, and Freddie finally fully turned his attention to him. He started walking inside the building.

 “Come to my stall with me. Yes, I do play. Piano, some, mostly I sing.” He hummed, and Roger and Brian followed him. The boys noticed a couple looks, scowling faces burning into their own. Roger slightly hid behind Brian, scratching at his head. Brian looked around in wonder.

 “I’ve never been to Kensington. Always wanted to. It’s a nice place.” Brian complimented, and Freddie laughed. They were soon at Freddie’s stall.

 “Don’t be ridiculous! It’s a bit of a shithole. You mustn't compliment something that isn’t dear, it makes you look like a pushover.” For the second time, Freddie had succeeded in making Brian blush, and Brian kept his head down.

 “Ah, sure, Freddie.” Freddie sat Brian and Roger on a small, ratty couch. It was only a couple feet long, and the two were nearly in each others laps, but it worked. Roger thought the disgustingly dull yellow was a commodity to the sofa. Freddie sat on a stool at a desk, which had a lockbox on it. Roger took a good look around.

 The small room was painted a flaking white, though the walls itself were nearly fully covered with racks of clothing. Jackets, shirts, even some jewelry all spread out on the inside of the room. Roger felt very at home already, the coziness of the small room giving him a comfortable tiredness. Brian, however, seemed quite the contrary. He was stiff, and waited as Freddie went off to quickly converse with a customer. 

 “Rog… how did you meet this guy again? At a party? You didn’t tell me you were going to a party last week. I thought you went to meet up with your mum?” Roger looked slightly guilty, and scratched at his arm.

 “Well… Bri, c’mon. I was looking for a hookup, you know? Wouldn’t want to leave you by yourself at a party. Was boring anyways.”

 “But… you found him?” Brian asked, slightly skeptical of Roger’s story. He started to sweat, the confines becoming less comfortable and making him feel much more vulnerable. 

 “Boys, please. Make yourself at home, no reason to be stiff. There are some cookies over there, Donna Evans brought them over.” Roger immediately reached, greedy for an out so he wouldn’t have to talk.

 “So, you play with Tim, yes?” Brian nodded.

 “Oh, yes. He’s quite a good bassist. Erm- well. Actually.” Brian backtracked a little, “Okay. We did play with Tim. But… did you see last week's gig?” Freddie nodded quietly. “Yeah- well. He told us after that, he’s thinking about breaking up the band. Nothing final, but Roger and I haven’t really heard much of him other than him leaving lyrics under my door, so I know he’s working.” Freddie hummed, turning to help a customer pay.

 “That sounds inconvenient. I play for my own band, too. Off and on, I understand what you mean Darling.” After this, Freddie reached into the pocket of his jacket, which Roger was only now really noticing. It was very pretty, Roger decided, a snug little black number, with gold flower designs going all up along the body and sleeves. Underneath Freddie was wearing a thin white shirt, plain and simple, with white bell bottomed jeans that complimented his legs perfectly. Roger found himself staring, and could tell that Brian and Freddie noticed too. He shoved his face into another cookie.

 “Ah, well, yes. It is quite. What band are you in?” Freddie picked at the sides of his nails, Brian plucking the next cookie from Roger’s hand and taking a bite of his own. Roger grumbled at him, just grabbing another.

 “Well, see, I play around a bit. Lately I’ve been with Ibex. Messed with Sour Milk Sea some. Just a bit of fun- nothing that could really get me anywhere.” Brian nodded. 

 “We should play together sometime.” Roger finally added to the conversation, and Freddie grinned.

 “Yes. Oh- yes. I go to school up here as well, you must find me and invite me to a practice or something, Dears.” Brian grinned,

 “That would be lovely.”

* * *

 The boys left hours later, Freddie staying to work while Brian had a curfew. Roger walked him to the tube. He happened to snatch that beautiful coat from Freddie, complaining that it would be too windy and getting a, ‘ _ Oh- here Darling. We can’t have the pretty one freezing up, can we? _ ’.

 The jacket actually fit him perfectly, and he rubbed subconsciously at the hem.

 “So, what did you fink.” Roger asked randomly, after a long three minute walk in silence. Brian looked startled, and he grabbed tightly at his backpacks straps.

 “Hm? About what?” He asked, fakely confused. Roger scoffed, elbowing him playfully. Brian gave a quiet “Oof” and a laugh before really replying.

 “He’s a nice bloke, yeah. A little... Outlandish. But nice. Liked the cookies. You like him, yeah? You were running after him. Seems a little gay Rog.” Brian was joking, Roger could tell he was joking, but he still stiffened slightly. Brian noticed, like the amazing friend he was.

 “Taking the piss. Not surprised you met him at a party. You’re always surprising me, even after all these months.” Roger smiled a bashful, small and genuine smile, something that rarely happened outside of his talks with Brian. 

 “Yeah, I know. Have to keep to brand, yeah?” Roger laughed, hands falling to his sides again as he relaxed, “Anyway- should we really invite him to a practice? He seemed interested ‘nuff.” Brian grinned widely, staring at his feet as they stepped down the stairs.

 “Yes! Absolutely. I.. liked him a lot, and I think we should.” They were finally at the stop, and the tube would only be a minute or so out. 

 “You.. liked him a lot, yeah?” Roger said, slightly nervously. He didn’t understand why that sentence made his stomach do the somersault it did.

 “Yeah. I think he has some beautiful potential… We’ll just have to find a bassist, if Tim’s to leave. But I really think Freddie could take us somewhere. I loved the bit of piano he played.” Roger remembered, the moment in which Brian had convinced Freddie to play them a quick number. It was magnificent, some people even buying clothing just to tip the playing. Though, this still made Roger want to scowl. Cry. Punch the wall. He didn’t know why, nor did he care as Brian just smiled at him. It looked so polite, sweet, beautiful, Roger couldn’t look away. Until he had to, because the tube had arrived. He was out of time to say whatever it was on the tip of his tongue, because before he knew it, Brian was saying goodbye and stepping on board. Roger watched as it quickly sped off, to wherever it was Brian lived. He only sighed, after a few moments, and turned to walk home.


	3. Two

 Two months after the encounter, Roger can’t help but be thankful that Brian convinced him to allow Freddie to warm up and practice with them. It took nearly a month of vocal training from Roger, but Freddie already started to sound magnificent. Roger pulled off his shirt, soaked with sweat in their musty, small music room they called a studio. 

 “That was beautiful, Fred. Can we try one more go-round before we call it quits?” Freddie took a gulp of water from his small plastic cup, which he had doodled on in red sharpie during breaks, and nodded. Roger stared at the two as they interacted, nose scrunching up slightly. He rubbed at the back of his scalp with a drumstick.

 “Mmn, of course Darling. Our shows in two days.” Freddie looked towards the door, and grabbed the other two’s attention. Roger rolled his eyes, before noticing who was at the door.

 “Sorry- Sorry. I’m sorry- I’m sorry I’m late. You’re all still practicing, right?” Their newest bassist,  Barry Mitchell, walked in quickly. He looked at the three, soaked not in sweat, but in rain water. Roger grimaced as the man shook off his coat. 

 “Listen, Barry…” Brian started, standing from the ratty couch, which they had moved from Kensington to their studio. He set the Red Special down carefully, and walked up to their bassist.

 “We like you a lot- we really do, but, um.. I just think, that maybe… Maybe you’d be better in a band with people your age, you know?” Roger wasn’t surprised, they’d been talking about dropping Barry for a while, and it seemed Brian figured now was the perfect time. Roger didn’t mind, it bought him time to get a quick drink of water and pat his red skin with a towel.

 “.... So… I’m out? Just like that? Is it because of our last performance?” He questioned, and Freddie shook his head.

 “Trust me, Darling, that performance had nothing to do with our playing. I’m telling you, that lighting was fucking atrocious.” Freddie chimed in, also getting close. He gave Brian his water, and hugged Barry. “Don’t worry, dear, you’re still invited to be our friend, if you’d like. It’s nothing against you personally.” Barry frowned, not hugging back.

 “Just that my playing is shit.” He sighed, zipping up his coat again once Freddie let go. Roger rolled his eyes a second time, tapping the drums boredly.    


 “Yeah, basically. Do you want some change for a ride home? Since you’ve no reason to stay while we finish up.” Barry seemed taken aback by how blunt Roger was, but obviously got the hint.   
  
 “No… I’ll be around. See you then.” The 17 year old readjusted his basses case, and walked off. He slammed the door behind him. The three stood wordlessly after his departure, and Roger started biting the inside of his lip. It was Brian, who spoke first.

 “Right, Keep Yourself Alive, then.” He cleared his throat, and Freddie took his water from Brian to finish it off. Roger started to feel his skin go prickly hot, watching Brian and Freddie’s fingers brush against each other. He shook his head and got behind the drumset, hoping that going through their set again would calm him down.   
  
 “Ready, Freddie?” Roger asked, putting on his best fake smile. Freddie grinned, a cat-like wide grin as he gave the cue to start.

 They practiced a run through of their gig three times, Brian making up for the lack of bass with his guitar as best he could. They were all worn out completely by the end, Freddie and Brian once again taking up both spots on the couch. Roger laid down across both of their laps, head in Freddie’s. 

_ My ass is against- _

 He stopped that train of thought immediately.

 “Right,” Roger started, staring up at the ceiling. It was quite low, close enough that even Freddie could touch it if he stood on his toes. Roger mulled over his next sentence for a while before he spoke, giving himself a chance to calm his nerves. “Bands are supposed to be, like, really close.” Brian looked baffled.

 “Are we not?” He asked, and Roger shushed him. Freddie just starred down at Roger’s face, gentle fingers coming over to brush the sweaty bangs from his eyes. Roger closed them, sighing and finally relaxing slightly.

 “Shut up.” that earned him a quiet apology, and he smiled. “No, what I’m saying is, we should like.. Have a night out, or something. Really hang out, not just at school or here or Kensington.” Roger finished, and Freddie grinned once again.   
“Yes! We absolutely should! Oh, Brian, doesn’t that sound like so much fun? We could go out, or stay at one of our houses, sleepover if we’d like.” Roger bit the inside of his lip, eyes fluttering back open.

 “Yeah, either of your guys’. My dad isn’t keen on people staying over, dunno why.” Roger lied, and Brian laughed.

 “Okay. It sounds like fun. When?” Roger rolled off of the two, gathering his things.

 “Now?” Freddie offered, and Roger shook his head.

 “Tomorrow. Right after school, meet me at my last classroom. I’ll find something for us to do. Figure out what house we’re sleeping at, for now, I’ve got to be off.” Roger directed and spoke firmly, then they said their goodbyes. The rain was relentless, and he could barely hear his own thoughts over it, only wishing he had brought a coat to cover up with. 

 Roger was quick to walk home, a feeling of loneliness and guilt bubbling up in his stomach, for reasons he felt he couldn’t explain. Roger tilted his head up, embracing the  cold water that cascading down his face and into the cloth of his shirt. He kept walking, until he was positive he was alone. He was still a ways away from his house, now in a much more empty farmland type part of Britain. Roger stopped walking, fists balled as he opened his eyes to stare at the trees, and he screamed. Roger screamed piercingly loud, a painful, long demonic like screech that held all of his emotion. He fell to the ground, screaming a second- much weaker- time, and sat there in the rain. He stayed long enough for his fingers and toes to go numb, and for his face and neck to be red with cold irritation. Roger didn’t move for a long while after he felt the numbness start. 

 He did stand, eventually, wiping the cold rain from his face as he did. He looked behind him, and saw a tall, pale figure walking towards him. It was Brian. He’d stayed there long enough for Brian and Freddie to finish talking, and for Brian to supposedly start walking home. He questioned silently, why in God’s name Brian hadn’t taken the tube like he usually did, but thanked the chance encounter anyway. Even though he had been able to stand, he quickly fell again, body shivering and cold. 

 Brian saw him, brows furrowed as he ran up to the man.

 “Sir.. Roger? ROGER!” Brian screamed his name, getting down on his knees quickly and pulling Roger close to him. “Roger? Are you okay? Rog?” Roger stared at him blankly, Brian soon pulling off his coat hastily and covering Roger with it. “It’s okay, It’s okay. God. Oh my god. Roger, please, no, don’t close your eyes. Oh my god. How does a biology student get this stupid? Oh my god.” Roger heard him babbling, feeling himself be picked up off the ground. He only felt Brian hold Roger to his chest like a baby, and heard Brian starting to heave as he ran, before he fell asleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the technical repost! I realized I wanted to edit it too majorly to keep it while I worked. Hope you don't mind!  
> I also apologize for the chapters being so short... I'd love feedback whether you'd prefer them longer or shorter, or if they're fine how they are!


	4. Three

 “No. Mum, I’ve told you, and I’ll tell you again. He doesn’t like hospitals. Please… No he’ll be fine. Just.. where are the extra blankets? Thank you.” Roger could just hear the soft sound of his best friends voice, and he groaned a little. His head hurt terribly, and his skin was prickly and cold. He recognized feeling wet, but didn't think much of it. He tried to open his eyes, and just barely got it before they shut again. They felt glued.

 Weakly, Roger opened his mouth and tried to speak.

 “..an.” He cleared his throat, “Rian. Brian.” He finally got the entire word out, and almost immediately felt a shuffling to his side. He felt the layers of blankets weight be moved, and some more were added, before he felt his hand be pulled out and taken into two larger, warmer ones.

 “Rog? You’re awake.” Roger heard Brian’s voice clearer, and he sighed happily. 

 “Can’t.. fucking… eyes.” Roger tried to form the entire thought. It didn’t work.

 “Shh. I know. Freddie’s coming over with a friend of his, they have heating pads and such. Your eyes are going to be shut for a while until we can get some wet cloths- that my mum somehow doesn’t have. Can’t believe she let her pipes freeze.” Brian blabbered on, and Roger didn’t try to speak again. He listened contentedly, allowing Brian to rant about anything he wanted. His mother, the stars, animals, and so forth were discussed until a distressing knock came to the door. Roger felt his hand slide out of Brian’s, and he groaned again.

 “Hello dear. Yes, we’ve got everything.”

 “I really hope it’s not a um.. bad time.”

 “Of course not! John, do do do.” Footsteps, and then a clack as something was put down on glass. The door shut, and Roger cleared his throat.

 “Bri?” Roger spoke weakly, and couldn’t help but fear his best friend would leave him alone with two people that were practically strangers. The warm blankets were pulled from his body, and he shivered.

 “Still here, Rog. Oh, here John I’ll take that. Thank you.” A warm compress was pressed to his eyes, and Roger moaned softly.

 “Oh.. that feels good.” Roger whispered, and felt his hair being brushed out of his face. After a few moments, the compress was pulled away and a soft cloth wiped at his eyes. He finally opened them.

 Roger didn’t recognize the room, and determined it must be Brian’s living room. He was laid on an expensive looking sky blue couch, and quickly took in his other surroundings. Yellow flower printed wallpaper, a glass coffee table with what looked to be an extensive first aid kit on it, a small tele on a maple entertainment center. It was nice, and nothing like Brian’s dorm room. Roger looked between the people there. He found Brian’s unmistakable curls, Freddie’s prominent teeth, and a new, all too simple looking man at the end of the couch. Roger took in the long hair, black sweater, and big nose while said man started to untie his left shoe.

 “Whos-at?” Roger asked, Brian propping him up slightly. Freddie disappeared for a moment, and Roger jumped when he felt his warm palms rubbing into his shoulders.

 “John. He’s a new… Friend, of mine. As Brian put it, anyway.” It quickly clicked for Roger, and he jerked his foot away slightly. John looked at him, confused.

 “We need you to strip so we can get dry clothes on you.” John stated simply. Roger let out a small,

‘ _Oh_ ’ and let John get back to work. 

 It took the three an hour or so, but eventually Roger was sat up on the couch cross legged in Brian’s own pajamas. They didn't fit him in the slightest, the sleeves and legs needing to be rolled up excessively. He also had a hot cup of tea in hand, wrapped like a baby in a comforter and three smaller blankets. He found it to be too much at first, but understood when he was told what had happened.

 “I heard you scream, so I ran up to you. I didn’t even recognize you at first.” Brian and Freddie were both sat on the couch with Roger, John in Brian’s father's armchair. “You looked towards me and just… collapsed. Right there, in the mud.” Freddie was massaging Brian now, hands digging into the muscles in his back and neck. Roger almost wanted to tell him to stop.

 “That’s… Crazy, Bri. Why would I do that?” He asked, although he didn’t know. Still in denial himself, he doesn’t dare even bring up any possibility for his breakdown.

 “I don't know Roger, but it was scary.”  _ Maybe after they leave, I’ll tell him. Tell him about my dreams, and how Freddie and I met. Does he know already? Would Freddie do that? _

 John adjusted in his seat.

 “Yes, well, everything seems to be fine now. I’m glad to have been of help, but.. um.. Fred, not to..” John’s face was red, and Roger caught on to what he wanted. Freddie did too,

 “No. I’m staying here with Roger until I am over 200% certain he’s okay.” John’s lips almost twitched into a frown, but he nodded.

 “Fred. I am fine, you know. Don’t let me and Brian keep you from having a good time.” Roger spoke, and Brian nodded.

 “I’ve got him if you and John want to leave. Trust me, I can see why it would be uncomfortable for him to stay.” Roger couldn’t, but he nodded anyway. Freddie only scoffed, hitting Brian’s forearm.

 “Don’t be daft, Darling! I know you’re  _ so  _ enamoured of him that you just  _ must  _ have time alone,” The blush on Brian’s face crawled up his ears and down his neck, “but if he’s going to be our bassist he must learn to deal with Rogers anecdotes!” The other two look at Freddie in confusion, who just stood.

 “Oops! I’ve said too much! Come John, Dear, let's leave them some private time.” John was quick to follow suit.

 “Um… Okay. Hope you feel better soon, Rog. Bye Brian. You can keep the first aid.” And without another word, they left.

 Roger took a long sip of his tea, Brian staying quiet. Roger stared at his half empty cup as he spoke.

 “You’re ‘enamored’?” Roger asked, fingernail scratching subconsciously at the porcelain. Brian stiffened, turning to Roger with eyes the size of dinner plates.

 “What? Oh, no, of-of course not.” He scoffed, “That was just Freddie being Freddie. You know him. Ah, you’ve had a long night. Are you hungry? Tired? I can turn on the tele.” Brian stood, and Roger frowned slightly.

 “No, I’m good, thanks… um.. But, Brian?” With baited breath, Roger waited for a response.

 “Yeah, Rog?” Now’s the chance.  _ Now I tell him. Tell him about the party. About the questioning. About everything that’s been going on like you usually would. _

 “I um… I think I… Me and Freddie..” Brian starred. Roger waited for the comical interruption, for the phone to ring or the oven to beep like as it happens in movies.

 It never came.

 “I… think Freddie is going to have John try out to be our bassist. He seemed nice enough. Did he look like he could play to you?” Brian looked taken aback, almost confused.

 “Wha.. I.. Um.. I suppose so. His fingers were calloused, he must have been playing for a while. Is that all?” Brian sounded hopeful for something else.

 “I don’t.. I don’t want to sleep alone, honestly. Would you lay down with me until I fall asleep?” Roger found himself saying the thought before he could hold it back. Just before he could profusely apologize and tell Brian to forget he’d said anything, Brian was shifting down, holding out his arms for Roger to crawl into. He did, and Brian wrapped them around him. The pair laid in a much more comfortable silence now.

 “Brian?” Roger whispered, eyes closed, and nearly asleep.

 “Yeah Rog?” Brian replied, in an equally soft tone.

 “No matter what… We’re best friends, right?” He asked, fingers clutching at Brian’s shirt.

 “... Of course. No matter what, Rog.” Roger felt Brian’s hand in his hair, and he sighed,

 “Thank you.” before falling into the best, most peaceful sleep he ever had in his entire lifetime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chap will be longer, i swear


	5. Four

Roger felt Brian shake him, and before he could grumble about it, his body was flung to the floor.

“Oi- whattda fuck-” He was tangled into a mass of blankets, and looked up to see Brian hovering above him, fully dressed and packing his backpack.

“We’re going to be late if you don’t get up! I gave you your fifteen minutes, now go get dressed.” Brian explained quickly while Roger got up.   
“Hhholy shit, Bri, it’s only,” Roger blinked, and looked for a clock. Brian provided the time, 

“7.”

“7? How fucking far away do you live from the school?” Roger started undressing just there, in the middle of the living room. Brian politely looked away while he packed, checked, and rechecked his bag.    
  
“Half an hour tube ride, but I’ve only enough cash for one ticket. I usually don’t take men over to my mum’s on Sunday evenings.” Roger thought about that for a moment, before dismissing the alarming thoughts that immediately came to his head. He ran back to the bathroom, where his clothes were still hung on the shower rack. He felt that they were still damp.  _ Fuck…  _ Roger made the split second decision, and went back to Brian’s old bedroom. He quickly found the dresser, and grabbed a set of clothes. They fit him as well as the pjamas, that’s to say not at all, but he made do by tucking the black long-sleeved Jimi Hendrix shirt into the long blue jeans- of which the cuffs were rolled up dramatically. He ran out, and managed to get socks and shoes on before Brian noticed him.

“Hu-r..r why’re you wearing my clothes?” Roger looked back to Brian, who was messing with his intense curls, trying to get them semi-decent as he didn’t have enough time to straighten them out. Roger stood, and started towards the door.

“Mine weren’t dry yet. Let’s go!” With that, he leaves Brian to chase after him. 

Eventually Brian catches up, and they walk together. The February weather keeps both boys on their toes, the harsh winds waking them up better than any cup of coffee would.

“Jesus. I didn’t know it was supposed to be so windy today. Did you, Rog?” Brian tried making casual conversation, of which Roger ignored.

“Hey- do you remember John, from last night?” Roger rubbed his hands together, then pulled down the sleeves on his shirt so they’d cover them.

“Oh- uh- Yeah, I do. What about him?” Brian was wearing a plain white T-shirt, and nearly identical bell-bottomed jeans to Roger’s own rolled up ones. He shoved his hands in his pockets.

“He was quiet. Seemed nice though. Did you know him? Does he go to school wit’ us?” Brian thought for a moment. 

“I think he goes to one of the places we played at.  ...Chelsea, maybe?” Roger nodded, then his eyebrows shot up and he clapped. He looked at Brian.   
  
“That’s it!” Brian looked to Roger as well. “He’s that bloke Freddie wouldn’t stop fucking ogling all night! While we were playing, didn’t you notice Freddie keep going off to the left? Every goddamn time he went off to the left, he’d look back and wink at me! He was obviously planning to take ‘im home.” Roger explained, and Brian’s brows furrowed.

“Freddie’s not gay, is he?” Brian asked, and Roger started at him. Roger then turned his head to the sidewalk in front of him.

“Well… um… well I don’t bloody know.” The sentence was meant to be said aggressively, annoyed almost, but it only came out soft and sad. Brian looked down at the sidewalk as well.

“Ah- Not that there’s anything wrong with it! Of course not! Rog- Roger, that’s not what I meant. I just… didn't know.” Roger tried to hide his large sigh of relief.

“Oh, yeah, well course not, Bri. It’s okay. Had me worried, I’ve known for.. A while. I didn’t know what you’d think.” Roger expertly left out the part of,  _ that gayness is how we met,  _ and started up a new topic of conversation. 

They finally reached the school building, and Roger and Brian said their goodbyes. Roger didn’t have the heart to tell Brian it was a Monday, and that he didn’t have class until after lunch that day. He instead went off to beg a friend of his for some money, and quickly made his way to the tube. He took the short half hour ride to Chelea’s College. He looked around a bit, just generally hanging around the campus, before he saw the unmistakable, but beautiful, long hair sitting at a small wooden bench. Roger quickly walked over, making sure it was John before sitting himself across from him.

“I  **told you** Fred- Oh- Shit sorry… Roger?” John started speaking before he looked up at Roger, who grinned at him. Roger took notice to the bits and bobs covering the table, little wires and screws and plastic bits. John put down the screwdriver and a small box. “What are you doing here? I thought you went to school in East London?” Roger rubbed his hands together again, breathing into them briefly to warm them up before speaking.   
  
“I do, Brian and I go to school together out there now. My first class isn’t till bout one today but I walked out to go with him. I remembered why you were so familiar.” John looked down at the table, a blush crawling into his features as he started working again. When it came clear he wasn’t going to say anything back, Roger continued. “That show we played here, Freddie was all over you. Why didn’t you take him back to yours?” Roger asked, and John’s face only turned a deeper shade of red. 

“Um- I- be- what?” John seemed confused, and Roger reiterated.

“Why did you not fuck my best friend? He’s delectable! Don’t tell him I said that, though, It’d go right to his head.” John sighed, looking up at Roger again.

“I’m not gay.” He stated simply, and Roger’s brows furrowed. 

“Codswallop.” Roger insisted, and John sighed. 

“I’m not. He thought I was, the people here probably think I am- the bullies in high school obviously thought I was, but I’m not. Why is it so hard to believe?” John seemed distressed, and Roger suddenly felt bad. “I- I’m sorry. Fred was just here a while ago, he seems convinced I must be lying.”   
  
“Why’s that?”

“Kissing a guy doesn’t make you gay.” John rolled his eyes, and Roger seemed interested.   
  
“Sounds pretty gay to me.” Roger moved now, sitting next to his new friend.

“No. I’d much rather take home a woman. With a vagina. And breasts. Thank you very much, not gay. Theory disproved. Now, if you don’t mind me…” John gathered his things, shoving the pieces into his bag he’d left on the grass. “I’ve got a class to be getting too. If you’d like to have a real conversation- about  _ anything  _ else, I  _ beg,  _ meet me here in about half an hour. Yes?” Roger licked his lips, crossing his arms and leaning down on the table.   
  
“You’re fun. I like you.” John zipped up his bag and stood, facing the blonde.

“I try. Are you in?” Roger nodded, and John saluted briefly before walking away.   _ I suppose I better find Fred, then. He should still be around if what John said is true. _ Roger stood up, took in his surroundings, and started walking aimlessly in the opposite direction to John. 

Roger did eventually find Freddie, and they spoke for that half hour about nothing in particular. When John came out, the three all spoke together for another couple hours, (John coming and leaving between classes,) and eventually the topic of practice was brought up.

“Well, Brian just laid off our bassist. Two days before a gig, can you believe him? Stubborn as a mule, I tell you. I tried to get him not to, but when Barry didn’t show up right in that first 5 minutes of practice, he was livid. Can’t imagine how he was feeling when Barry finally did show up. “ Freddie explained, and John laughed. Roger noted that John seemed much more lose and comfortable with Freddie around than when he wasn’t, and he leaned over the table to take a slice of John’s apple he’d brought for lunch.

“Really? That’s crazy. Have you guys found a step in yet?” John asked, and Roger took a bite of the slice. Freddie pat John’s shoulder.

“We haven’t! It only happened just before I came over.” Roger squinted at John, who hummed a soft tune.

“I suppose you’ll need someone new.” John gave a soft smile to Freddie, who gave a sly grin in return.    


“I suppose we will, won’t we Roger?” Roger put a hand up, shaking his head.

“No band decisions without Brian present. He’d kill me. But if it were up to me- which it will be because I’ll convince him, if you want to be, you’re in.” John and Freddie both chuckled, Freddie’s hand clasped to John’s shoulder. Roger noticed, though didn’t know why, that he felt much lighter when it was John Freddie was hitting on. He felt so angry and hot when Freddie and Brian were together, but with these two his mind was finally put to ease. Roger knew he loved Brian, they were best friends, and like this Freddie obviously didn’t hurt him at all, so he didn’t understand the angry feelings that led to events like the catastrophe the night prior. He was pulled out of his thoughts when John checked his watch.   
  
“Oh, Roger, you should get going so you don’t miss your class. Have you got enough money?” Roger checked, and, he did.    
  
“Yeah, don’t worry. Thanks though. You’re right,” Roger stood, stealing another apple slice. “I better be off. I’ll see you two at band practice tonight, then?” John gave a thumbs up, and Freddie winked before Roger finally left the two to their own devices. On his way to his class, he ran into Brian again, and suddenly his heart sank into his stomach. He chewed the inside of his cheek, and waved quickly before escaping into his classroom. 

Roger shivered, making his way inside the small music room. He thankfully brought a coat to practice this time, and set it down carefully on the arm of the small couch. He sat down next to it, heaving. 

“Brian?” He called out, to which he gained no reply. “Brriii?” He tried again, sitting up straight. It was unusual for him to be the first to practice, usually running late by a few minutes. Checking the time, he noticed pleasantly, he wasn’t late at all. Ten minutes early, infact. Roger grinned to himself, then started taking off his shoes. 

Before he could make his way to the jug of water they kept, the door with quickly slammed open and shut again.

“Oh, Rog, you’re here already?” It was Brian, who looked absolutely wrecked.

“Of course. Been here a while, actually. Was just about to get some water and grow a beard waiting for you.” Roger got himself the cup of water.   
“Haha, very funny. No, really, I’m surprised. You’re not usually early.” Brian set his own coat on top of Rogers, and Roger poured Brian a cup of water as well.

“I know. I was hoping to catch you first.” It wasn’t technically a lie, he was planning on being early to do so, just not  _ this _ early.   
  
“I feel so special. Go on then, tell me why.” Brian sat down on the couch, taking a sip of water and slipping out of his clogs. Roger brought his stool over, and sat across from him.

“I talked to John today.” Brian hummed, urging him to go on. “He… wants to try out. Freddie already gave him a song of ours to learn.” Brian hummed again, putting his cup in his lap.

“Rog…” Roger cut him off.   
“Look, I know you’re apprehensive or whatever. But I really like him. Obviously Freddie does. I already told him he could at least try out, but I made sure to make it clear that there wouldn’t be any definitive yes or no without your input. Plus… we don’t have a lot of leeway to be choosey, really, do we?” Brian sighed, but nodded.

“I… suppose not. Hey… Um… You know, Rog. It just. I wanted to talk to you about something as well. I tried stopping you in the hall after lunch, but you ducked into your class faster than I ever… yeah.” Roger’s heart spiked, and he took a gulp of water before answering.

“Oh? Yeah, Okay, hit me.” Roger faked confidence, consciously keeping his hands relaxed and to his sides. 

“You… You told me you and Fred met at a party. And you told me Fred’s gay and…” Roger felt he knew exactly what was coming. “And-” and then the door slammed open.   
  
“Oh! Dears it’s  _ so _ dreadfully cold outside, don’t you think?” Freddie’s beautiful, if obnoxious voice boomed through the room, and John’s quiet snickering wasn’t far behind. Roger sighed in relief, hearing the door shut behind them. While Freddie wasn’t carrying anything, John had a large case in his small hands, presumably where his bass rest.    
  
“C’mon then, shoes and coats off. Let’s not get the carpet more wet than we have, yeah? Here John, I’ll take that.” Roger brought Brian and his own shoes over to the doorway, setting them down next to where Freddie was kicking off his own boots. He then took John’s coat, and brought it over to the couch to put on top of Brian’s. 

“Hello, hello Darling.” Freddie grinned, sitting down next to Brian, who tensed slightly. Freddie didn’t notice, or atleast didn’t care, and nearly threw himself onto Brian. Roger noticed Freddie whisper something he couldn’t hear, and noticed Brian laugh and relax visibly. He ignored the anger bubbling up and went to the middle of the room.

“Right guys! John’s here, a little common decency, shall we?” Roger clapped, gaining all three’s attention. John put his case down, and unlocked it. Roger watched him pull out a  Rickenbacker 4001 bass guitar, quite a beautiful one at that.

“Lord, John, how much did you pay for that?” Roger asked, and John situated the strap around his shoulder while a light blush covered his face.

“My mum helped me buy it.” He explained simply, before Roger helped him plug in and get ready to play. “Erm, so, the- the song Freddie gave me to play is uh, titled Great King Rat?” Roger sat down on the arm of the couch, but Freddie soon pulled him into his lap.

“Let’s hear it then.” Brian smiled.

The audition went no less than absolutely amazing, and Roger was enthralled by John’s unique playing. Brian even seemed pleased, and without hesitation welcomed John into the band. John melted into a beautiful smile, relaxed and grateful as Brian stood to shake his hand. The rest of the night, the four practiced together for the upcoming gig, and it went beautifully. John worked well with the three, even quietly giving Freddie little ideas on how to get much bigger, harder sound. He agreed to bring in his own amp that he’d been working on for a while, saying,

“It’s not what it could be yet, but by tomorrow it’ll be everything.” 

After practice, Freddie and John left together, Freddie mumbling something about meeting his younger sister for dinner that night. As it was, Roger and Brian were left alone in their studio once again. Roger sat bordely on the ground, head against the arm of the couch, while Brian laid out on the couch with his legs hanging off the end. Brian was writing something in a notepad, and Roger was doodling on a small plastic cup, a habit he’d already inherited from Freddie.

It was Roger who spoke up first, surprisingly.

“Hey, Brian?” He asked, black marker drawing a cute little smiley face. He gave the face a full head of curly hair in the same black ink.

“Yeah, Rog?” Brian replied simply, still writing away.

“I…” He started, trailing off. Brian stopped writing, and let his notepad fall to his lap.

“I think I’m gay. Or… Some… Kind of gay.” Roger blurt it out, surprising even himself slightly.

There was a long pause, Roger could barely even hear Brian’s breathing. He waited, hands ripping into the cup and head between his shoulders. Brian cleared his throat.

“Oh… um… Congratulations?” Brian blurted out. Roger snorted, relaxing just a little. Brian brought his legs up, and scooched back so he had his back against the arm of the couch, but now only took up the space of one cushion. Roger stood, and took this as an invite to sit next to Brian. “Uhh…” Brian scooched back a little again, and bit his lip.

“Are you… sure? Like- no, I mean… how do you know?” Brian asked, genuinely confused. “I’ve never seen you… swoon over a guy. And I know you’ve been with women before.” Roger bit at his lip, thinking.

“I just… like both, I think.” Roger confessed, and Brian nodded. “I mean. I.. well. Don’t tell anyone I said. But. I kind of… accidentally…” Roger searches for the right words, and sighs. “Freddie and I had sex the night we met. And when I realized… I kind of started thinking about it. And wondering ‘Holy shit, what if I am too.’ I guess what I’m saying is uhh… I don’t know. For sure, anyway. I could be straight and just having a blip, you know?” Roger confided in Brian, who relaxed some and pat his shoulder.

“Oh… Well, then, shouldn't you like… try being with a guy? To know for sure? Because uh… If I’m being honest, while we’re sharing anyway…” Roger stared at his best friend, who took a deep breath before continuing.

“I’m not gay- I’m sure of that. I’ve never really liked a guy before. At least, not how I love Chrissie. Do you remember her?” Roger shook his head, but he definitely remembered. Brian had swooned over Chrissie for months, but she eventually turned him down. Politely, but it still broke his heart.

“Ah, I don’t expect you would… But uh… Well…I love one person as much as I loved Chrissie.”

“Who?” Roger managed to choke out, staring at Brian with wide eyes.

“... You.”


	6. Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> IM SO SORRY I DIDNT EVEN REALIZE A MONTH PASSED BY!!! I HAD THIS ALL LINED UP TOO!!

 Neither boy spoke about what had happened after practice, as they didn’t have much of a chance to. They found that everytime they were alone, Freddie or John were hot on their trail. Even as Brian tuned the Red Special, and Roger set up his drum kit, they were yet to speak about it. Freddie laughed, watching as John and Brian tuned their instruments together. It gave Freddie a chance to look out, seeing the crowd of people who were waiting to hear the newly rebranded group, fit with a new bassist and better vocals,

 

_ Queen _

 

 Freddie absolutely adored the name, finding it to be outrageously perfect for the band, while the others were much more apprehensive.

 “ _ They’ll come around… they always do,”  _ Freddie recalled his best friend, Mary Austin, telling him just nights before. The thought of her brought a smile to his face- which he adamantly covered with his hand. Freddie scanned the room, finding his love just towards the back, ordering something to drink. He was just ready to call out to her, before he felt Brian pat his shoulder. Freddie whipped around.

 “We’re ready, are you?” Brian asked, slinging the strap around his shoulder quickly, Freddie turned to notice John doing the same across the room.

 “Of course, Darling.” He ushered Brian and John out first, giving them time to plug in in the dark. 

 “C’mon Rog, time to go.” Roger nodded, grabbing his small tin of drumsticks, all ready for when he eventually drops one. 

 “Are you ready, Freddie?” Roger asked, and Freddie only grinned before patting Rogers back and sending him forward. Freddie took a deep breath, and ran out behind him. He stalled while the three finished getting ready, starting to sing,

 “ Now I’m here...”

 

* * *

 Freddie called out to the fans, having just finished their last song of the night, Modern Times Rock ‘n Roll,

“Thank you, my lovies, for making this such a special occasion… Have a good night!” Freddie noticed John run off the side of the stage, and before he could even understand what was happening around him, Freddie heard the large  **crash** of the drums, falling behind him. He attempted ignoring it, only just biting his lip and running off with John. He only just looked back to see Brian give a final wave before following behind him.

 Now in their closet-like dressing room, Freddie started pulling off the tight black leotard.

 “Roger!” He called as Roger made his way inside, already pulling his shirt off. “What in god’s name were you doing!? You could have broken the bloody drum set!” Fred complained loudly, and Roger only huffed at him. 

 “That show was shit, Fred. We didn’t have the audience. At all.” Roger sat down, exasperated. John was already in a pair of sweatpants and a soft black jumper. He started putting his bass away. 

 “Don’t be ridiculous! They were with me the entire time! Well… er… till the end, anyhow. That was the smoothest show we’ve played in  _ months,  _ and you know it!” Brian was ready to leave now as well, tying the laces to his white trainers. John walked across the room to get the rest of his stuff together. 

 “Maybe so, but it was still shit! That fucking lighting, I might as well complain to the management!” Roger and Freddie finished getting dressed together, Roger shoving their stage clothes in John’s duffel bag. John just grimaced and allowed this to happen. 

 “Maybe if you’d both shut up, you’d see that the  _ bigger  _ issue is lack of money to buy a new drum kit. Rog, we’re not rich. We can’t break our instruments like we are.”

 Roger scoffed, “Says you.” he then mumbled under his breath, something Freddie couldn’t quite catch. It’s appearent that Brian did, however, as Roger’s chair is flipped back and he’s on the ground. Freddie stares in disbelief.

 “Excuse  _ me _ , Roger? Do you want to say that again?” 

 The entire room goes silent, even Roger, who stares up at Brian. Roger’s head shrinks into his shoulders, and John and Freddie both stare at the pair. Freddie can see tears start to bubble in Roger’s expression, and he stands.

 “Brian. Are you ready to go? We should get walking, our bus won’t go by our schedule, Darling.” He changed the subject. Brian stood, suspended over Roger for another moment. He seemed to be weighing his options, before moving away from Roger and grabbing his guitar case. He walked out without a word to Freddie, who frowned.

 “John, Dear. You have enough money to get yourselves home, yes?” John nodded, already over and helping Roger up. “Good. I’m going to talk to him. I hope you’re okay, Rog.” Roger sniffled, now holding onto John diligently. Freddie rushed out to find Brian.

 He ran out the back door, finding Brian quickly walking away from the building. Freddie caught up with him, heaving and groaning.

 “I just finished running all over stage, you know!” He shouted, and Brian seemed to pretend not to listen. Freddie finally caught up, walking alongside him. “Please- Brian- Please slow down. I’d like to talk with you.” Brian considered his options, and sighed before coming to an abrupt halt.

 “Sorry, Fred. I’m sorry.” He sighed, and Freddie frowned, now also at a standstill. 

 “It’s okay. C’mon, lets  _ walk _ home.” Brian nodded.

 The two walked in silence for a few moments, the fresh nights air biting at their noses as they did. Freddie shivered and rubbed his forearms. He looked to Brian, then up at the bright yellowish moon, then down at the cracked and misshapen blocks of sidewalk.  He cleared his throat before speaking.

 “What the hell was that about? I’ve never seen you get so pissy.” Brian sighed, crossing his arms and shrugging. He stared ahead of them, eyes unfocused and blearly.

 “Curiosity killed the cat.” He mumbled, turning his head to crack his neck. Freddie’s eyes turned to Brian, examining him. He watched his pale, ghost like face, and took note of the tremble in his bottom lip. Freddie turned his attention back to the road as they crossed the street.

 “Yes, my dear, but don’t you know the rest?” Brian’s brows furrowed, and he said nothing. Freddie wormed his arm between Brian's body and elbow, locking their arms together. “Curiosity may have killed the cat… But satisfaction brought it back.” He grinned, looking up at Brian once again. Brian now looked back at him, eyes glossy and wide. He turned his head forwards, only to see that they were at the bus stop already. He glanced at his watch, seeing that they were early.

 “I… suppose.” He hesitated, the two sitting on the bench. Brian sighed, shoulders slumping as he uncrossed his arms. Freddie wrapped his arm around his friend now. “Alright... “ he put his face in his hands.

“I’m not going to repeat what Rog said… but…” Brian stared at the ground. “Basically… How do I word this... “ He gestures with his hands, Freddie waiting patiently.

“After practice, yeah, we were alone. And he confided something with me… and I confided in him, aswell. He said something about it, when he was complaining today. We’ve still not had a chance to talk about the whole situation, and it caught me off guard, really. I didn’t mean to do what I did. Just- the thing that I told him was so personal, and something that I’ve kept to myself for months now. You know?” Freddie hummed, nodding.

 “I understand, lovie, I really do.” Freddie hummed, watching as the bus pulled up. The two stood, and got on. It was empty aside from them, and they sat towards the back. Freddie continued, “I’ve got my own secrets- I suppose we all do, it’s scary when somebody threatens solidarity.” Brian nods, staring at the sticky, blue floor as the bus began moving, “But you haven’t got anything to worry about with us. Trust me- Roger and I aren’t going anywhere, and I sure as hell doubt John will be.” Brian looks to Freddie.

 “Why do you say that? After tonight, I wouldn’t blame him… “ Freddie laughed a bit, patting Brian’s back.

 “He likes me too much. We talk every night at this point, whether after practice on the phone, or at his house… I’ve spent the night a couple times.” Brian began to look uncomfortable, a red shade coming to his face.

 “Are… Are you two… together?” Freddie’s eyes widened, and a redness came to his own face.  
  
 “What? What the hell gives you that idea?” Brian bit his lip, 

 “Uh… well…” Freddie’s face looked furious, though kept an otherwise calm tone and composure. Brian cleared his throat. “Roger told me you were… Not that there’s a problem with it if you are… When we were sharing secrets- he-he said you’d slept together and…” Brian couldn’t look Freddie in the eyes, and Freddie could only imagine the anxiety bubbling up. He tried to calm down, for Brian's sake.

 “No, we’re not together. Yes… I slept with Roger, full and well knowing who he was. I can’t believe he’d tell you without saying anything to me…” Brian cleared his throat a little,

 “Well… we just… we tell eachother everything, Fred. Please don’t take this as me going ‘Oh, hey, by the way, the whole world knows you're gay because Rog can't keep his mouth shut’ because it’s not that. Truly he’s not like that.” Freddie sighed, head in hands. He did eventually just nod, and stand up. The bus came to halt. 

 “I know, Brian.” Freddie stepped down, and onto the pavement. Brian followed, and watched as the bus doors closed and it made its way off. They started walking towards the apartment complex.

“I just didn’t expect that. It took me by surprise.” Freddie crossed his arms, staring at the ground. “I suppose I’m not angry about it at all.” He started shivering again, and Brian nodded. 

 They didn’t say anything as they made their way up to Brian's apartment. Where Freddie had expected to say their goodbyes, Brian opened the door and ushered him in.

 “It’s going to start raining soon. At least let me get an umbrella.” He excused. Freddie closed the door being him, taking in his surroundings while Brian left to get him an umbrella and a coat. The apartment was much different than Brian’s mother's house, peeling white walls, an almost unhealthy amount of _Jimi Hendrix_ and _The Beatles_ posters. Freddie could only smile to himself, seeing Brian’s tiny bed and tv set up. Brian went through his closet while Freddie sat on his bed. 

 “Well, if it would really be so much of a hassle, I may as well stay the night here.” Freddie spoke absently, and Brian turned to him.

 “Um… If you want.” He shrugged. Fred was visibly surprised, and weighed his options. After a moment, he grinned.

 

“Yes. Lets.”  


	7. Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> as promised  
> maybe more on friday?!?!??!

 Roger sniffled, letting John help him up off of the ground.

 “Good. I’m going to talk to him. I hope you’re okay, Rog.” John forcefully pulled Roger into a hug, and Roger simply accepted it. Freddie soon bolted out the door with Brian.

 “Well. That was eventful.” John sighed, letting Roger pull away from him. Roger furrowed his brows, quickly going from overly aggressive to sadly shaking. He felt cold, and slightly upset. He’d only barely muttered it, the small phrase that was obviously enough to set Brian off. He’d not even meant for Brian to hear it, but he had. Roger was now suffering the consequences, feeling the burn of what may be considered their first fight. He mulled this over, staring that the empty space where Freddie and Brian had just exited. He jumped back to reality when John’s hand started rubbing his back diligently. 

 “You okay?” Roger heard John ask, but it sounded far away. Roger furrowed his brows, and looked at John.

 “What?” He asked, not understanding the question. John looked at him, obviously puzzled.

 “Maybe I should take you back to mine.” Roger didn’t know why, but he immediately shouted,

 “No!” though, in his mind, it sounded quiet, far away, and he could barely hear himself speak. Was he speaking? He didn’t know anymore. Panic flooded his system, and he pushed away from John. John stared at him. 

 “Roger, really, it’s okay. Are you okay? We can um, go back to yours instead?” Roger could barely understand what John was saying, and in this state, he didn’t need to. The words coming from him sounded broken, like an old tape recorder. His vision was already terrible, and he could see the tunnel vision starting. Everything hit him at once, like a freight train. And then, everything was black.

* * *

 

 Roger woke up with a pounding headache, which seemed to become a normality for him now. Though, when he opened his eyes, he didn’t recognize the room around him.

 Also a current normality.

 Roger tried to remember what had happened the night before, and found that he couldn’t. The night was a blur, but he knew that they’d played a show. He stopped trying to remember, and instead focused on the present, staring at the childlike room around him. He was laying in a twin sized bed, the room painted grey that was spotlessly clean. The ground was carpeted, and just from looking at it Roger knew it was soft. So, instead of looking at it, he decided to get up and feel it.

 Instead of gracefully stepping onto the ground like he meant to, he found himself tangled up in a thin cotton blanket, and fell face-first into the carpet.

 The worst part was him being wrong, the carpet was scratchy. He heard the door creak open, and a loud,

 “Oh dear! John, come help your friend off the ground!” There was stamping, and a,

 “What? Oh hell- Roger!” Before the blanket was pulled from his body, and he was brought to his feet. He blinked a few times.

 “Oh! John. I’m with you. That’s good then.” Roger scratched at the back of his head, and John scoffed at him.

 “Unbelievable. You don’t remember last night?” John let go when Roger was proved stable.

 “Uhh… I didn’t do anything I regret, right?” John sighed, and sat Roger on the bed.

 “No. Well, possibly.” John’s hands were on his hips, and he stared Roger down. The woman, still in the doorway, cleared her throat.

 “Why don’t I make us a cuppa?” She smiled sweetly, and Roger nodded, before raising his hand a little,

 “Oh, would it be troublesome to ask for a coffee? Please? My head's killing me.” He wiped at his eye, and she nodded before leaving, closing the bedroom door behind her. The room was silent for a while, and John pulled out a chair at his desk to sit on.

 “So… This is your room?” Roger asked, and John shrugged.

 “Was. When I was a kid, I um… well I don’t sleep here.” He worded carefully, and Roger decided to press on.

 “Where do you sleep? Campus?” He asked, and cleared his throat. John offered him a glass of water that was on the desk, Roger took it and downed the glass greedily before giving it back.

 “Uh, no, not exactly. I’ve.. Um. Well, I’ve been sleeping with Freddie. In his room.” Roger’s eyebrows shot up his head.

 “Bullocks. Fred and I share an apartment.”    
  
 “You’re really never fucking home, Rog. And, when you are, I’m quiet. You’ve seen me, according to Freddie?” 

 “I figured you just hang out a lot. Didn’t know you’ve been living with us.” John shrugged, crossing his arms uncomfortably.

 “So, last night.” Roger scootched forward, squinting to see John better. “Basically, we played our show, and you threw a hissy fit. I don’t know what you said, but you said something, and it tipped Brian off. Whatever it was, Freddie said it was a really asshole move. Also, apparently, Freddie’s also pissed with you. He called last night.” Roger swore under his breath, slowly remembering the night as John explained.

 “Well, fuck.” He mumbled, digging the palms of his hands into his eyes. John frowned, sympathetically patting his shoulder.

 “Are you okay, though? You freaked out on me last night after Brian left. “

 “Yeah.. No, yeah, I’m fine. Er..” Roger blinked a couple times, brows furrowed. “Freaked out?” He asked, and John was happy to elaborate.

 “I asked if you wanted to come to mine and.. it was like you didn’t understand me.” It clicked in Roger’s mind immediately.

 “Oh- That. Yeah. Don’t worry about that. Just... Crazy, fucked up Roger being crazy fucked up Roger.” He shrugged it off, to which John frowned. The woman came back.

 “Hi- Hello. I’ve brought your coffee,” She handed a mug to Roger, who thanked her softly, “and your tea, love.” She handed John a mug as well. Roger blew at the steaming cup, before blurting,

 “Um- uh, I’ve never met you before. Right. My names Roger.” He held out his hand, and the woman grinned. Roger noted it, smile wide, eyes wrinkled. She shook his hand, and Roger thought absently.  _ Maybe a face a few years younger, a mind a few years more naive, she would be the most beautiful woman I’d ever met. _

 “No, we haven’t. For  _ whatever _ reason, my little Deacon refuses to bring his friends over.” 

 “Mum…” John trailed off, face red.

 “Really? What a shame. He must be trying to protect you. You are a sight, miss.” Roger flashed a toothy grin, and it wasn’t a lie. John looked at him, pleading silently,

 Stop flirting with my mother you fucking disgusting pile of dog shit his eyes read. She laughed a little, hand falling to her side.

 “Awe… Thank you. You’re not far off yourself, young man.” She looked to John, who shot her a similar death glare, before finishing. “Ah- yes. I must get back to preparing dinner. Have fun, boys.” She closed the door behind her. 

 “I’ll kill you.” John said seriously, cracking the slightest smile.

 “Never said your mum was so fit,  _ little Deacon _ .” John slapped Roger’s arm, getting up and sitting next to him on the bed. He spoke quietly.

 “Freddie really did sound upset, Roger. Do you have any idea what you may have said?” John sipped at his tea.

 “Honestly, no. I’ve never fought with Brian- other than petty arguing in the studio, you know how that is.” John nodded. Roger groaned, head falling down to John’s shoulder. 

 “Maybe we should meet up with them. figure something out. Talk about it.” To Roger’s surprise, John’s hand made its way into his hair. 

 “I’ll call.” John said, and Roger hummed out a small,

 “Thank you.” 

 The two stayed like this for a while before John decided to go and call, Roger was able to get out and get a good look around the house. He found John’s mom in the kitchen. 

 “Mrs. Deacon, hey. Still fixing dinner? I can help, my little sister has me help with her school cooking all the time.” Lillian smiled, 

 “Miss. And yes, of course. Could you wash the carrots and cut them? It really would be helpful.” She herself was peeling potatoes, and Roger assumed she was making a stew of sorts.

 “Got it.” Roger got to the sink, and wiped his eye before turning the faucet. “Miss? What happened to Mr. Deacon? If you don’t mind me asking, ‘course.” Roger made small conversation, starting to wash the carrots. She smiled sadly. 

 “When John was just a little boy, Arthur fell extremely ill. I think he was nearly... 12, or so?” Roger frowned, washing the carrots diligently.

 “Oh- Wow. I’m so sorry. I didn’t…” Roger trailed off, and she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

 “Oh, love, don’t feel bad. It’s been a few years since… I’m just not surprised he didn’t tell you, is all.” 

 “Tell me what?” John rounded the corner, lips pursed as he looked around the messy counter. Roger cleared his throat.

 “Who said we were talking about you, Deacon?” He grinned playfully, and John snorted out a,

 “Sure, okay.” while putting his hair back in a ponytail. Soon, John was cutting the carrots that Roger washed. 

 John hummed a short tune, “Oh. Freddie wants to meet us later tonight. We’re all going to meet at The Ritz.”

 “Alright.” He agreed, sighing softly.

 It felt nice to Roger, the feeling that he got. Stood here between a lovely lady, a handsome man, and a very domestic feel, he almost didn’t want to leave.


	8. Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> and comes in the beginning of the end. less than 10k words to write, boys. i hope youre all ready for chapter 8s angst..

 Brian gave Freddie some loose clothes to put on, and the two ate cup ramen on his bed while talking.

 “So, you told Roger you love him?” Freddie said out of nowhere, completely startling the younger man. Brian slowly set his cup down in his lap, and sighed.

 “Well, yeah. Do you think it was a bad idea?” Freddie pursed his lips.

 “Honestly, yes. What I’m going to say because you’re my best friend and I love you? No Darling, I’m sure he’s not having an existential crisis about his best friend being in love with him when he doesn’t even know his own sexuality.” There was a long silence, and Freddie started to eat again.

 “Shit.” Brian stared ahead of him, into the wall behind Freddie. He thought blankly, watching the silhouetto of his best friend. Freddie sighed, eating slowly. 

 “Don’t worry about it too badly, Brian. He’s in safe hands, I already called John, you know this. You were there.” 

 “Yeah… Yeah, I know..I can’t believe this…” Brian sighed. 

 “Don’t you have a girlfriend, anyway?” Freddie asked, and Brian scoffed.

 “You’re joking? No, I haven’t even been interested since…” It clicked in Freddie’s head.

 “Oh, so Chrissie was who you loved first. Got it.” Brian sputtered,

 “How did you know about Chrissie?” He asked. Freddie handed him his cup ramen, and got up. He spoke while he walked over to the television.

 “Mmn, John said Roger mumbled something about a Chrissie. Just simply detectives work, love. How do I turn your telly on?” Brian sighed, biting his lip.

 “Oh. And, you don’t. Doesn’t work. Radio’s over there, though.” Brian gestured to the windowsill. Freddie huffed, walking over. 

 “ _ Oh. _ Mhm. We must get John to fix that for you.” Freddie turned off the overhead light, fiddling with a lamp. He got it on, and then turned the radio on quietly.

 “Fred, what  _ are  _ you doing?” Brian smiled a little. He knew what Freddie was doing. He took the ramen from Brian, and set them on the table.

 “Shirt off. On your stomach.” Freddie commanded, and Brian sighed before complying.

 Freddie climb onto Brian, and began working his muscles. 

 “You don’t think straight when you’re this stressed.” Freddie whispered, and Brian whined in agreement. “Now. Let’s think about this seriously. What do you feel when you think about Chrissie?” Brian sighed, eyes slipping shut.

 “Sad. I  just… I don’t feel happy when I see her anymore. Just uncomfortable.” 

 “Now, is it possible, that you’re using Roger to fill that void, only because you know he likes you?” Brian frowned.

  “No.”

 "Why not?” Freddie asked, getting into a particularly rough spot. Brian huffed, eyes falling open again.

 “I would never want to hurt Roger like that. He’s my best friend.” Brian was surprised to feel something soft and slightly wet press against his back, right between his shoulder blades. “Freddie, what are you doing?”

 “What? Nothing.” There was another unmistakable kiss, before Freddie was just massaging again. “I just… Brian, I feel so bad for you, Darling. And Roger.”

 “Why?” Brian asked, sighing.

 “He’s so enamoured…” He trailed off. Brian pushed Freddie off, and sat up. He stared him in the eyes.

 “And? What?” Brian asked, arms crossing. Freddie looked uncomfortably to the side.

 “His rose colored glasses aren’t showing him that you’re just… Not. It breaks my heart.” Brian blinked a few times.

_   “ _ Oh.” 

 The two sat in silence for a while, until Freddie went to finish his ramen.

 “You done?” he asked quietly, and Brian nodded. He didn’t have much of an appetite anymore. Freddie took both cups and threw them away. “Are you ready for bed?” He asked, and Brian took a few moments pause.

 “Um… You can, I’ll.. I’ll be back in a while.” He stood, and Freddie furrowed his brows.

 “Have you gone mad? It’s still raining out there.”

 “Just drizzling. I’ll be fine, really.” Brian gently pushed Freddie away so he could get his shoes on.

 “Brian..” Freddie frowned.

 “No, trust me, it’s okay. I’ll.. I’ll be back.” With that, Brian slung his coat over his shoulder, and grabbed his umbrella before walking right out. 

 The wind was brutal, cutting into his skin, he could barely see in the now absolute downpour. He’d quickly put on his coat when he realized, now glad he’d actually brought it. Brian could barely feel the unforgiving weather. He walked, lost in his own mind.

 “ _ You’re just… Not.”  _

_  How would Freddie know? He can’t possibly know me better than myself. Or does he? Am I baiting Roger?  _

_  “I think I’m gay. Or.. some… Kind, of gay.” _

_  No… He wouldn’t have lied to me… And I wouldn’t hurt him! I’d never do that! Would I? _

_  “John. He’s a new… Friend, of mine. As Brian put it, anyway” _

_  God, so dense. That should have been a neon red flag. What’s wrong with me? _

 Brian kept thinking like this, walking aimlessly. He found himself in front of Roger and Freddie’s apartment. He thought for a moment, then grabbed the key from under the mat, and let himself in. 

 “Am I really doing this?” He thought aloud, closing the door and taking his coat off. The apartment was warm, and he set his coat on the ratty old couch, somewhat matching the one in the studio. He looked around a bit, asif looking for his friend. Brian did not believe that Roger was with John- Something in him wanted him, needed him, to talk to Roger. He needed to be with him right now, so he chose the next best option. Brian came up to Rogers bedroom door, and knocked. There was obviously no reply, and he let himself in. He swallowed his pride, and sat down on the end of Rogers bed. Brian sliwly untied and pulled off his shoes, setting them carefully aside eachother against the bedframe. He sat back, and laid down.

 Less than a half hour later he heard the front door open and close. He heard the soft creak of Roger’s bedroom door open, having baited breath. There was a long pause, a soft sigh, Brian could feel a burning into his skull as Freddie stared at him.

 The door shut again, and soon he felt the older man crawling into bed with him. He was wet, freezing hands and hair making Brian want to hiss at the feeling. He did not.

 Freddie wrapped his arms around him, and Brian sobbed. He sobbed loudly, harshly, and almost threw Freddie off of the bed. He felt Freddie pet his thick curls, having lifted from the rain. Brian turned, and faced Freddie. Freddies hands came and carefully wiped his tears, and Brian looked up at him. He licked his lips, and Freddie seemed to know. Freddie always knew what was best for Brian- and he was ready to accept that.

  Brian only thought passingly,  _ “This is wrong…” _ as Freddie’s lips brushed against his, and a hand came to his waist.


	9. Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tags slightly changed. I am writing this as we go, (With a vague outline for what I want,) so sorry about that. Please note that the girls WILL come to be more substantial, please just give it time. Also, there have been a lot of pov breaks now that we are in the middle of the fic. i wanted to keep it as just Roger in the beginning, but it is very hard to do so when there are so many people with so many different emotions and thoughts at the same time. Note that pov changes will now be continuous throughout time- most likely never in a chapter itself like this one- but enough that I figured I should mention it. I know that the way its played in this one is slightly subtle- it really shouldnt affect the read at all. if you think it does or that i could execute this differently, do say so, i love constructive criticism.

 Roger sighed, head lolling to stare out of the window at the bleary March weather.

 He felt good, he decided. He took a deep breath, and puffed out his chest bit. John snorted, staring through the rear view mirror.

 “Rog, what are you  _ doing _ ?” He giggled out, to which Roger grinned. He brought his arms up and flexed.

 “Just making sure everything's in order, of course.” 

 “Trying to look good for your boyfriend?” John smirked, teasing the blonde. Rogers eyes glanced to Lillian, but her eyes stayed firmly on the road.

 “Sure, John. And you must be trying to make sure you never get a girlfriend, right?” He teased back weakly, but John still laughed.

**THE RITZ**

 Blared at them through neon lights, Ms. Deacon parking the car in the small parking lot. She smiled, and looked between the two.

 “Okay. Go have fun, Ducky.” Roger grinned at another of the pet names John seemed to have acquired. 

 “Will do, Mum.” John kissed her cheek before getting out. Roger shrugged,

 “Thank you, Ms. Lillian Deacon.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. Lillian blushed and giggled like a schoolgirl at the simple action, and John had to hold himself back from gagging. 

 Roger crawled out of the car, and walked with John towards the small restaurant. Lillian drove away, and the reality of the situation began to sink in for Roger. He scritched at his head. John pulled the door open,

 “Ladies first.” He joked, and Roger rolled his eyes as he walked in.

 “I really don’t know what you’re going to do when I cut my hair.” He scanned the room for the poodle, “At this point I’m only keeping it to make you happy.” John laughed.

 “Sure, Rog. Whatever you say.” He pulled Roger into the direction of Brian and Freddie. 

 They’re sitting in the corner of the restaurant, in a booth with a window next to them. They’re sitting across from each other, Freddie with cigarette in hand.

 “Darlings! Come, come! Sit, my dears.” He beckoned them over, and they did so. Roger next to Freddie, and John next to Brian. Brian was wearing a black turtleneck, that accentuated the thinness of his features. Roger thought it was beautiful, but didn’t fail to notice how on edge Brian seemed. He rarely looked so pale, and so upset, and Roger furrowed his brows while trying to figure him out. John spoke first,

 “Sorry if we’re late, Fred. Mum drove us over. How’d you sleep?” He asked politely, and before Freddie could answer, Roger interrupted him.

 “What’s wrong?” He asked quickly, barely registering himself that he’d spoken.

 “What?” Brian asked, and his arm went to hide his neck defensively. Freddie glanced between the two, and looked down at the table.   
  
 “You- What’s wrong? I’m sorry for whatever I said- but it can’t have really upset you that much.” Roger blurted out, and John gave a pleading look. Brian’s eyes trained themselves against the window.

 “Nothing, Rog, It’s fine, really. I’m sorry I reacted the way I did. I shouldn’t have done that.” John smiled,

 “Good, apologies out of the way. Thank you for taking care of Brian, Fred.” John nodded in his direction, and Roger noticed the fakeness in Freddie’s smile. Maybe Freddie was still difficult to read, but he’d known Brian for much too long. Something was wrong here, and Roger felt his mouth go dry while he tried to figure it out. He stood, and excused himself to the bathroom. 

 

 While in there, Roger stared at himself in the mirror.

 He splashed water onto his face, the fluorescent light flickering above him. His reflection was deadly, eyebags heavy, skin pale, he was a sure sight. He scraped at a splash of water that had hit the mirror, and stares into his own baby blues. They disgusted him, in that moment. It upset him, and he remembered fondly the few hours ago that he was with Lillian. He was happy, standing in a comfortable silence with her and John. Maybe he was in love with John?   


 Now, that was just silly. But maybe it was true?

 Roger didn’t know how he felt about anything anymore, and he sighed softly, hands coming up to pull at his blonde locks. He cleared his mind, counting slowly, 

 

10, 9, 8…

7, 6, 5…

4, 3…

 

_ Shit. _

 He remembered now, he remembered the words he’d uttered quietly. And suddenly, he felt terrible. He understood now, why Brian was so upset, and pulled his locks a little harder. Stupid, stupid, stupid.  _ How could I say something like that? _ He asked himself in disgust.

 Roger took another few moments, and let go of his hair. He washed his face once more, before testing his smile, and coming back. He noticed that John had taken his seat next to Freddie, and uncomfortably sat next to Brian.

 “Hello Roger, we just got you water, is that fine?” Freddie asked, and Roger nodded. He looked into Freddie’s eyes- really looked into them, and decided they were much prettier than his own. Deep, milky eyes that made Roger feel warm. Very different from his own, which made him feel cold. He sighed, and tore his eyes away from Freddie’s, to look into Brian’s Hazel ones.

 “I remember what I said, after the show.” He whispered, low enough that it wouldn’t disturb Freddie and John’s conversation across from them. Brian frowned.

 “Oh? John said you didn’t.” He replied, also in a whispered hush. He nodded.

 “I only just remembered. And I’m sorry- So sorry. That was so terribly out of line, Bri- I’m so sorry..”    


 Brian’s hand came to rest on Roger’s shoulder, and he smiled sadly. 

 “It’s okay.” He brought Roger in for a hug. “I have something to tell you, too.” He whispered into Roger’s ear, and it made him shiver. Brian was reminding him now of Freddie, and that made his gut churn.

 “Alright.” He said, and the waitress came back with their waters.

 The four joked like normal, conversing and having fun through their entire dinner. Roger felt okay again, happy in his friend’s presence, but also scared for whatever Brian was to tell him later. The time came faster than he had figured it would- very easily being less than an hours dinner. Nonetheless, the four stepped out of The Ritz and into the cold.

 “Brian and I bussed here. Maybe you should call your Mum, John, would she pick us up?” Freddie asked, and John nodded.

 “Most definitely. Do you three want to just spend the night at my house? It’s awfully late, It really would be best.” John mumbled in reply. Freddie grinned at the proposition.

 “Oh, Yes! How about it, dears? Roger, Brian, we should have a sleepover with John!”

 Freddie got a chorus of, “Alright,” and, “Whatever,” before He brought John inside to make the phone call. This left Brian and Roger alone.

 They stood in a comfortable silence for a long while, Roger picking at the side of his nails. It was Brian who spoke up.

 “About earlier.” Brian cleared his throat while Roger faced him. “What I wanted to say.” He reiterated. Roger nodded. Brian wiped at his nose, burning and dry from the cold.

 “Freddie and I…” He started. Roger’s gut churned, he stared into Brian’s hazel eyes, iris small and beady. 

 “We had sex. Last night. In your guy’s apartment.”  
  


 

Roger was silent.

 Brian didn’t know what to say as Roger stared soulessly into his eyes, he just stared back as Roger remained expressionless. He seemed to be shocked, but Brian really couldn’t tell.

 “Okay.” He finally said, eyes closing. He didn’t move from that position, none more than a slight recoil, as if he expected to be hit.

 “I…” Brian’s heart ached, he felt terrible saying this to Roger and he scritched at his neck. “I’m sorry.” He stared down at the ground now, unable to look at the usually full-of-life, but now sickly, blonde.

 “For what?” Roger asked, and Brian didn’t know. He felt compelled to apologize again, but held back. Their silence was no longer comfortable, now like a gaping hole in the world around them. Time froze- nobody moved, nobody spoke. It was deafening in the worst way. Soon- or maybe it had been an hour- The door swung open and left a gust of air. There was the ring of the bell, and Roger finally opened his eyes again.

 “Took ya long enough!” He answered loudly, a grin playing on his face. Brian was taken aback- was this the same man he’d just sat in silence with moments ago? It seemed not, as he joked and talked loudly with the other two. Brian felt only sadness, and stayed quiet through the conversation, only speaking when necessary. He felt dirty. He felt upset. Walking to the tube to go home seemed like a good idea in that moment, but he didn’t.

 The four rode together with John’s mom, Freddie, Roger, and Brian all squeezing into the back and John sitting in front with his mother.

 Brian stared out into the bleak march weather, and sighed softly. His head hit the window, and he closed his eyes, and tried to drown out the sounds of his band members.

  
_Maybe I should just quit._


	10. Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I hope none of these seem like filler-are boring???? I try to keep every chap interesting!  
> if you cant tell.... the end was a liiiiiittle rushed. As it is, writing may be slow for a week or so. I've got 3 fics in process. A: Joe mpreg crack fic, brirog parent fic, and a dea...ian? John/Brian fic. Even so, I um... Embarrassingly, I write on an old desktop with a keyboard. And as prom is coming up, i have acrylic nails. Currently, I am using two highlighter pens to tack out this message. Oops. Very interesting new experience!  
> -H

 Brian hobbles out of the car when Ms. Deacon parks, long legs twisting uncomfortably as he all but fell out of the little Volvo. He followed John’s mom to the front door, hearing the boys close the doors and follow them. Brian clears his throat slightly, and whispers,

  “Um- Ms. Deacon?” He asks. She continues unlocking the door, with a acknowledging hum.

  “I am feeling slightly sick. I may lay down as soon as we’re inside. Is that alright?” She opens the door, and walks in. He trails her to the kitchen while she speaks,

  “Yes, of course dear. I’ll start fixing the boys some tea, and get you settled into Johnny’s old bed.” She smiles brightly at him. Something about her smile reminds Brian of Roger, though he can’t quite place it. He smiles back politely,  before excusing himself to the living room.

 All three other boys were much different. They were rowdy, yelling and wrestling in the living room. At least- Freddie and Roger were. John was laughing on the sidelines, fiddling with the TV that stood proud in the center of the wall. Brian walked over to him, and repeated what he had said to his mother. John pouted slightly, before standing to meet his gaze.

  “Are you sure? I really think you could benefit from having some fun, Brian. It’s been a rough couple days.” Brian nods,

  “I know. I really just feel ill, I didn’t want to make your mum drive me home. It’s much too far from here…” John tilted his head.

  “Don’t you have a dorm?”

  “God- yes. I can’t go there right now.”    
  
  “Why not?” John pried, and Brian grit his teeth.    
  
  “Really John, I’m just n-” Brian didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence, as soon the oldest of their band had pounced on him, like a cat.

  “Mmn, take off this jacket, Bri, stay awhile.” Freddie winked at him, hands coming up under the jacket. Before yesterday, this would have made him blush. He would have complied and listened to Freddie cat-call him jokingly. He would have ignored Roger’s eyes boring deep into his face, staring at him with such an intensity that it was truly impossible to notice.

 But today is today. And all it did was make Brian’s stomach lurch. He pushed Fred’s hands away, and laughed awkwardly. “No thanks, Fred. I’m actually rather cold.” Freddie’s hands were off of him easily, actually pulling them to his chest like Brian’s touch had burned him. Freddie seemed to be re-evaluating his most recent lay. He licked his lips, before turning away to mess with Roger some more. John got it, now. Brian was sure John understood, as John looked at him with sympathetic eyes.

  “Let’s get you to bed then, yeah?” John asked, and Brian nodded.

  “Please.”

 John escorted Brian away from the two boy-like-men, bringing him into his old bedroom. Brian smiled at the simplicity of it, and sat on the bed. He tensed as John closed the door, both men inside. Brian scooched backwards on the bed slightly.

  “Thank you, John. Really, I can take it from here.” John shook his head, and sat at the desk chair. Brian watched as John seemed to go through an entire thought process. The moment of silence was long, and unforgiving. Brian starred as John looked at the ground, and then up at Brian again. He took a breath- hesitated, and then spoke.

  “Did Freddie hurt you, Brian?” John finally settled on, and it made Brian snort. A genuine short laugh, that obviously caught the younger off-guard. Brian held up a hand, and used the other to rub his eye while he shook his head.

  “John- really. If that’s what this is about, you think Freddie ‘hurt’ me, well, then-”

  “Brian, I am serious. I saw the way you shrugged him off. I noticed how dismissive you were. You weren’t like this yesterday, and you were all nerved up on stage. So what is going on with you? You and Roger both- you seem so…”

  “Uncomfortable?” Brian finished for him, and John nodded. “I suppose you’re really the only one that hasn’t been fully filled in, then.” Brian took notice to how that sentence put a sour taste on John’s tongue. The slight recoil and annoyed expression staying for only a few moments. He sighed, and pulled his legs up. He explained while untying his shoes. “Right, I guess nine is a pretty good place to add a recap.” John stares at him in confusion. Brian brushes it off and continues,

  “Roger… has a crush on me, or loves me, or, whatever. But he had sex with Freddie. And I… think I like him back? And I.. also, had sex with Freddie. I just want to keep the band level at this point. I don’t want to have to quit, Deaky, I really do love Queen.” John was silent as Brian spoke, and Brian just finished getting his shoes off before laying down. John leaned forward to cover him up.

  “Well. If it were… Up to me,” John tucks him in carefully, “I’d have you all just get away from each other for a while. And figure shit out. But it’s not, so you have to make that decision yourself.” Brian nods, and John pauses. He leans forward, and his voice gets rough as he whispers into Brian’s ear, “And I love you, Brian, but don’t fuck this up. Don’t loathe. Don’t be an ass. Talk to them.” He pulled away, and Brian stared at him, slightly in shock. “I’m going out to see the boys. Have a good sleep.”

 And then John simply left Brian to mull this over. By himself. In the dark. Alone.

 Roger looked at John, and tilted his head at the bassist. 

  “You were in there long ‘nuf. Thought he’d killed you, or sumfin.” He spoke through a thick, fake accent that garnered a smile.

  “I should’ve had him kill me, before what he told me.” Roger’s gut churned, and Freddie looked up from the movie to acknowledge his friend.

  “Hm? And what was that, Darling?” Freddie inquiried, and John sat next to him. John shook his head, starting to unlace his shoes.

  “Whatever it is Deaky, it can’t be that bad, can it?” Roger chimed in. John sighed.

  “You’re all idiots. But you,” John stood, and turned to Freddie. Roger starred, confused. “Where do you get off, Mercury? Hm?” Why was Freddie the one getting yelled at, Roger thought. Even more surprising, perhaps, were the tears springing to Freddie's eyes. 

 "You know exactly what you've done. I think you need to take a rest, and think about it." John turned to Roger.  _ Oh no.  _ "And you. Just stop. Stop loathing. Get over yourself. I love you Roger- and you too, Freddie, but please. You all need to learn how to get along without fucking like rabbits." Freddie's face was red, and the tears streamed down his face.

  "Deacs…"

  "Don't 'Deacs' me, Fred. I know what you did. I see what you're doing. And it disgusts me, frankly." John finished, setting his shoes against the wall. It was quiet for a long moment, until John's mum came in with cocoa. Roger sniffled, and thanked her.

She gave him a small hug before leaving, and John cleared his throat.

"For the record. You aren't bad people. But this is very bad behaviour."


	11. Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh wow, finally, an update! I'm not dead! I'm so sorry 9 and 10 are so short, they were actually MEANT to be one chapter, but I accidentally uploaded the other one prematurely. I also apologize if there's a shift in personality at all, it's been a long time since I've written for this fic, but some of it is meant to be there.   
> I promise things will clear up soon. The story is almost over! thank you for those of you still reading! <3 I appreciate you very much. Some of my other works are now set as a "next story" sort of thing, this is something im experimenting with! this may take some time to be fully readable as one cohesive storyline, but that is the plan. maybe ill put all of the stories into one fanfic and match them up better? who knows! for now, enjoy chapter ten.

 The night was quiet after that. Brian had come out once to use the bathroom, but didn't even give a sparing glance to the other three. They watched tv quietly, Freddie falling asleep during the Dick Van Dyke show, while John and Roger started to whisper quietly to each other.

 "So, what is Fred doing that's so disgusting?" Roger asked, and John sighed through his nose.

 "He and Brian had sex. I think he… He's a little confused, sexually. I don't mean he doesn't know he's really straight, I'm sure he's not, but… I dunno." John played with a loose thread in the couch. Roger's mind was already racing.  _ So Brian must've told John as well. Okay. That's fine. Why? Why does it matter? It's not like Brian's in a relationship. _

 "It's not like Brian's in a relationship." He said out loud. John looked at Roger, for a short moment, before looking back.

 "I suppose not."

 "So why can't he have sex with who he likes?"

 "Listen, Roger, I'm not going to explain to you what I think. I know where I'm going with this. Just… Forget it."

 "No!" Roger's whispering was getting louder, and John glanced at Freddie. "I want to know what the fuck is going on. I never…" Roger trailed off, and sat back. "I feel like I… Never know what's going on with you guys anymore. Not you, Freddie, or Brian."  _ Don't start crying now, you insufferable piece of shit! Now is not the time! _

 "What are you on about? You're as much in the middle of this as Brian and Freddie. I'm just listening to all of it. Maybe if you did that you'd know?" Roger stared at John, and his words began to sound far away, like they had that night.

 Roger shook his head, and stood up. He snatched his coat.

 "Where the hell are you going?" John asked, and Roger stood frigid. The tone of anger and annoyance only made it worse, and the tears started to fall.

 “Home.”

* * *

 

 Roger looked out at the hot, sunny day, and sighed. Two days into June and the weather was already hitting record highs. He looked around his room quickly, and threw on whatever he could that wouldn’t scorch him during their park gig.

 “Jo! I’m heading out!” He yelled. His girlfriend rounded the corner, a smile plastered on her face. He smiled at her, seeing that she was wearing his shirt. Her tanned skin looked beautiful against it, hair plastered to her face with sweat.

 “Already? It’s only two o’clock.” She pouted, and he kissed her briefly.

 “Sound checks. We haven't played together seriously since we wrote the album, you know that. We need to practice.” Before she could retort, Roger heard the obnoxious Beep of the van’s horn. “Gotta go.” He ran out without another word, grinning when he saw his bassist behind the wheel.

 “You’re late!” Roger yelled, laughing as he hopped into the passenger seat. John scoffed,

 “And you were awake? Sure, Taylor. You’re barely half dressed now! You better find a shirt in the back.” Roger huffed, crawling back. 

 "Yeah, yeah… Are Brian and Fred already there?" he asked, only the slightest twinge of nerves in his voice. John started driving again,

 "Should be. I called Fred and made sure he was on his way." Roger nodded, throwing on a white tank top that didn’t smell totally disgusting. He patted John’s shoulder as he crawled up front again, sitting next to him.

 “How’s your mum been?” Roger asked, slight playfulness in his voice. John glared at him,

 “You think you’re funny. Haha. She’s been well, thank you.” John stared out at the road while Roger stole his pack of Marlboros. 

 “Still fit like she was?” 

 “Roger, Jesus.” A grin settled on Roger’s face as he lit up a cigarette. They drove in mostly silence, John turning up the radio to let whatever Beatles or Jimi song that was popular at the time flow through. Roger bopped his head along to the music, mentally trying to calm himself.

_ So what if you haven’t seen Brian or Freddie in months?  _

_ Who cares that John hasn’t brought it up, and that it’s bound to happen? _

_ Why should it matter if the crowd hates us tonight? _

 The affirmations didn’t work, so he inhaled the cigarette a little faster, hoping it’d calm him down, or at least make him stop shaking. He sighed, staring out at the square John parked a small ways away from.

 “All of the instruments are being set up for soundcheck now, we probably have about twenty, I’d say.” Roger nodded, and the silence as John stopped the van was deafening. John opened his door, about to get out, then hesitated. He turned towards Roger.

 “Uh- I know you’re nervous. I am too. Brian and Fred are excited to see you though- trust me. It’ll be good. It’ll be great.” John smiled, patting Roger’s shoulder. It made him feel hot- a prickly, painful touch to his delicate skin. Roger faked a wide smile,

 “I know. Not a doubt in my mind.” He replied shortly, to which John hummed.

 “Sure. Make sure to see me after- Oh, and you were gifted a lovely case of beer for our nerves.”

 “Who?” 

 “My Mum. Take a minute to get yourself together, Rog. And don’t beat yourself up so hard.” With that, John got out and closed the door. Roger watched as he walked away. He smiled slightly, a genuine soft smile,  _ Always knows what to say. _ He thought happily, glad he had someone like John in his life. 

 As he got out of the car, brave, unswayed by nerves, ready to drum the night away-

 Roger put his hand on the van, dizzy for a moment, before kneeling over and throwing up.  _ What the hell? I was fine seconds ago?  _ He mentally questioned his own sanity for longer than a moment.

 He stayed there, bent over the van long enough that Freddie had been sent to check up on him.

 “Roger, Dear?” He sounded fairly soft, worried for his bandmate. Roger put a hand up to him, sighing.

 “Yeah- yeah, I’m here. Bout of nerves hit me.” Freddie bit his lip, and Roger put his hand down.

 “Uh- Maybe you’ll feel better if you sit down?” He offered his arm, which Roger took gladly. They walked towards the park, and Roger got to see, once again, Freddie’s switch flip in him.

 

“Hello hello Lovies!” He shouted at a crowd of girls. They must not have known either of them, but were excited to be talking to the lead singer of the band. 

“Oh yes, Just give me a moment. It appears Roger sucked too hard, I can’t believe it! Can you? Haha, yes, just a moment.” The girls whined, begging him to stay and chat with them, but Freddie would have none of it, pushing through the group towards the small stage. John and Brian were there, tuning their guitars. Both looked up at them, and both fell with worry for the man. They set their instruments down and walked over, Freddie setting Roger down to sit.

 “What the hell? Rog, are you okay?” Roger nodded, and thanked Freddie as he grabbed a bottle of water.

 “Yeah- fuck. Just… A little dizzy, s ‘all. I’ll be fine.” He drank some of the water, closing his eyes. He could hear the ground cheering, the booming of it all giving him a headache. He heard his band arguing,

 “We can’t just go without him. We don’t know how to play drums!”   
  
 “I don’t see any other choice, Darling. He’s not fit to go up there right now. Maybe we can distract them for a while?”

 “I can do Ogre Battle, but you’d be losing bass.”

 “How about Ogre Battle, White Queen, Doing Alright… Maybe those will be fine without?” 

 

 They agreed, and Freddie stepped out First. John and Brian got their guitars on. Brian frowned at Roger, who was now laying down on a bench.    
  
“Feel better soon, Rog, we’ll need you for the end half.” Roger was clearly asleep, and Brian put a gentle, soft kiss to his forehead before running onto the stage.

  
  


Maybe Roger was dreaming- or his new found sickness was doing it to him, but he felt the familiar brush of lips onto his sweaty forehead, the hand gently keeping his hair from his eyes. Very suddenly, and very deeply, he felt himself falling. He’d known for sometime that Jo was a step in. Something to fill the void of what he longed for- or maybe he was just confused. 

Roger decided he’d be upfront with Brian, tell him how he still feels. Maybe he’ll feel the same.

One day. Not today- probably not tomorrow, but Roger will tell him one day. Atleast, he can dream of it.


	12. Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pay attention.

 Roger laughed heartily, smoking a cigar. It tasted odd, and felt thick in his mouth as he was used to cigarettes. He leaned back in his chair, and smiled.

 “Hey, Lil, John called earlier.” Roger said, bringing his feet up onto the table. Miss Deacon sat next to him.

 “Really? How's he been doing?” Roger chuckled,

 “Pregnant again. Another daughter.” Lillian laughed with him, resting her hand on his forearm.

 “This is nice, isn’t it?” She asked, face turned into a sweet smile. Roger nodded, taking a puff of the cigar.

 “It is. You’re very beautiful.” Roger felt himself say. Lillian blushed, turning away.

 “Oh- You don’t mean that.” She giggled as he moved his hand to her cheek.

 “I do.” Just as he was about to lean in for a kiss, the world contorted. Roger felt panic and anxiety well up in him, watching as Lilian’s face melted. His eyes were the size of dinner plates, watching as her face turned into Brian’s. Her hair fell out, leaving her bald for only a second before coming in curly and dark. Roger began to cry at the sight of his friend,

 “You don’t.” The voice was still Lilian’s. Roger didn’t know what to do, he sat there in shock. The cigar burned his face, and he suddenly felt prickly hot. Roger continued to cry silently, unable to move as Brian stepped closer.

 “You are something, Taylor…” Brian’s voice finally came through, and suddenly they were no longer in John’s house. Rather, they were in a dark, dusty room. The sound of students screaming, a thunderstorm rolling in, and Brian’s devilish voice overcame Roger. He sobbed, watching as Brian came closer. A three foot long slimy, green tongue rolled out of his mouth. A toxic sludge dripped from it, burning holes into the Biology books between them. Roger stared in horror as Brian again morphed, face melting around the green tongue. His body seemed to melt into pure black. Not painted, not detailed, but a pure hole in existence. It was beautiful, and terrifying, and nothing Roger wanted to get into until he was. What was Brian swallowed him, the room around him, everything.

 Nothing- that’s what it was. Roger stared into nothing, so much nothing it could make one go mad. Perhaps he slightly was. Roger went to comb a hand through his hair, and found it shorter. He couldn’t see it, but he felt that it wasn’t the same. He watched his body grow uncomfortably fast- older. Wider. Roger screamed, though nothing came out, he was dying, he decided. Roger had transcended this world into death. As he was sure he was to take his final breath-

 It stopped. His head thrummed loudly at him, a painful headache. He opened his eyes, only to recognize a wet feeling all over his face. He stared into the dark, chocolatey eyes of his best friend.

 “Roger? Finally- I was thinking you’d never wake up. Are you feeling better, love? We really need you now.” Roger’s eyes traced back and forth over Freddie’s face, and the world started to paint itself in. A bench. An uncomfortable white park bench, with Freddie. Long, black hair and suddenly, that didn’t feel right. Something was missing on his face now, but Roger didn’t know what. He looked out at the crowd, meters away from his bandmates, who were trying desperately to keep them entertained. John had his long, lavish brown hair that swayed on the back of his white t-shirt. Brian turned towards the singer and drummer, playing a loud solo with The Old Lady. But she wasn’t very old, a shining red coat that gleamed onto the lights. It didn’t feel right, none of it did. The world was too bright for it to be 7 PM on a Saturday in June, so Roger ignored it.

 “What? Oh- yeah. Yes. I’m fine.” He gathered his thoughts. Gig. Park gig. First band meeting in months- had he fallen ill? _Shit- did they play without me? Fuck, I better get over there._ Roger sat up, and Freddie smiled softly at him. It reminded him of Lilian. _Eurgh._

 Freddie gave Roger a bottle of water, and he dumped it over himself. It cooled him down, and woke him up more. He nodded, letting the sick feeling subside before grabbing the tambourine from Freddie.

 “We’ll do something easy first, c’mon then.”

* * *

 

 The show ended without a hitch. Roger forgot about his dream, rushed by adrenaline.

 Until him and Brian were in the bathroom, sucking faces, with Roger’s leg wrapped around him. This was the first time they’d really kissed- really even touched like that, and it was far from special. More along the lines of;

 “God- that show was amazing, wasn’t it?” Brain had the twinkle in his eye he usually did after a good set, the feeling of dopamine rushing through his body.  Roger nodded, washing his hands and splashing his face to ease the feeling of sticky sweat.

 “It was… Probably the best I’ve played in a while. If only we could bring that to the studio.” Roger laughed, and turned to face the guitarist. Brian handed him a paper towel to dry off with.

 “Really. Once you came out… The crowd was very into it. Err… As was I.” Brian grinned, and Roger licked his lips. Within seconds, Brian grabbed his face, pulling him into the most intense kiss Roger may have ever felt. His right hand gripped at the dirty ceramic of the sink behind him, and his left into Brian’s hair. It wasn’t as he’d expected, that fantasy including a couple more candles and maybe a bed, but it was electric.

 For a moment.

 Then, Roger remembered the green tongue. The toxic sludge, the nothingness.

 Brian was already hiking one of Roger’s legs up, but Roger got a nasty taste in his mouth from the thought of it. There was nothing for him here- a kiss. A chase of a man who maybe, probably doesn’t  want him. Maybe he never did. Roger pushed Brian away and put his leg back down to steady himself. As Brian realized what he’d done, he got the face of a kicked puppy.

 “Shit, Roger, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. Are you alright?” His usual, gangly, weird self seemed to come back to light, and suddenly the adrenaline was gone. With it, was Roger. He ran out without a word, gathering his shirt on his drum stool, and fighting through the same group of girls as earlier to find John. He found him, in a similar position to what Brian had Roger in. One arm slung over a girl, another girl kissing his neck- Roger could only wonder which blonde Freddie had pattered off with. Roger made a face, trying to ask John silently to leave. John nodded,

 “Sorry, ladies. Maybe next time, alright?” He gave a goofy grin, wiggling away from their grip. “We’ll be back in a couple weeks!” He laughed, pulling Roger away. If he hadn’t been so shaken up, Roger would be proud of John. Finally starting come out of his shell, the party animal escaped him for a moment. But he couldn’t focus on that. John brought him over the the van, and as soon as they were in the back, shielded from everyone, Roger sobbed. He grabbed onto Deacy, holding him close and shaking in his arms. He found himself always so vulnerable around him, able to talk to him easily. Not now, though. Now he just needed a good, long cry. And, maybe a cup of tea.

 And lastly, perhaps, to try to forget about his guitarist. His crush. The love of his life-

 The most odd, weird, terrible and amazing feeling he got when he saw Brian.

 What he really needed, Roger decided, was a drink.


End file.
